09/23/2026
Six years.
Six years since Ken chose to leave this world.
Some years I write about it. Some years I don’t. Some years the words are simply too heavy.
Ken, you’ve missed so much.
Birthdays. Holidays. Milestones. Ordinary moments that aren’t so ordinary when someone who should be there isn’t.
And you’ve been missed by so many people who loved you, knew you, and whose lives you touched.
I still wish every day that you had chosen to stay. I wish you could have seen everything that was still waiting for you—the people, the moments, the laughter, the life beyond the pain.
Finding my strength again after losing you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. There were days when simply getting through the day felt like an accomplishment. Slowly, painfully, I found my way back to myself.
And this year, something feels different.
I don’t just feel strong again—I feel more alive. I found my confidence. I found my purpose. I trust myself more. I see the world differently. I notice the little things. I love harder. I laugh more. I don’t take ordinary days for granted anymore.
The loss will always be part of me, but it doesn’t define me.
Because su***de doesn’t just take one life. It leaves a ripple through so many others.
Six years later, I still wish you were here.
But I’m here. I’m living. I’m becoming.
And if you’re struggling right now, please hold on to this: your darkest chapter is not the end of your story. There are still beautiful moments ahead that you haven’t met yet.
Stay. Give life another chance. You never know what tomorrow might bring. ❤️
Happy Angelversary
